


The Sounds that Fill the Silence

by ladyroxanne21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, From Sex to Love, M/M, sort of, very little talking at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: They don't talk about it. Or anything at all. Because talking without fighting is not their strong suit. And talking would just ruin this good thing they have going.





	The Sounds that Fill the Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I'm one of those that's always screaming at these two dunderheads to just have a proper conversation and work things out already, lol! Naturally, that means that once the idea hit me to write a story in which they don't talk at all, I just *had* to write it, lol :-)

Much like every single day in the great hall, which was now nearly two years in the past, Harry and Draco couldn't help but be exceedingly aware of each other. This time, they were in the Leaky Cauldron and did a fairly decent job of pretending to ignore one another. Not even Hermione seemed to realize that they didn't actually need to look to know where the other was or what he was doing.

From his corner of the pub, Harry watched a drunken wizard stagger over to the complete opposite corner of the pub. “Scum like you shouldn't be allowed in respectable places like this!”

Harry could see that his friends weren't really paying attention to the scene; so, he focused on his ale so that he didn't appear to be paying attention either as Draco stood up and stepped away from his own posse of friends. A tiny smile tugged at Harry's lips as he heard Draco verbally filet the drunk sod until said drunkard was reduced to incoherent shouting. The whole pub was staring at them by this point.

To their credit, security escorted the drunk out. With a smug smirk, Draco assured his friends that he'd be back in a moment. Then the platinum blond Slytherin headed to the bar to order another round. Harry's friends quickly lost all interest and turned back to their conversation. Thus, they missed the fact that Draco headed to the loo rather than return to his table.

Harry gave it two minutes, and then followed him. In the loo, Harry could see that the stalls were open and empty. Draco was standing in front of the sink, mostly composed aside from the fact that he was using a silk handkerchief to wipe cool water across the back of his neck. His eyes took note of Harry striding across the room to the urinal, but since Harry hadn't even really glanced at him, Draco said and did nothing.

Harry made use of the urinal, using his senses to keep track of Draco's movements – rather than his eyes. Instead of rushing to leave, as Harry expected, Draco rinsed out the handkerchief, wiped his face, and then spelled everything dry. Harry finished his slash, shook off the last drops, and then put himself away and zipped up.

When he turned to actually look at Draco, he was surprised to see that Draco was using a spell to ensure that every hair on his head was utter perfection. He really hadn't thought Draco would do something so... well... almost intimate, in Harry's presence.

Harry stepped up to the other sink and washed his hands, then reached around Draco to grab one of the towels spelled to dry hands better than anything Harry could manage – without over drying them. When done, he tossed the towel into the waiting laundry bin. Then...

Then Harry went just a little bit crazy. With one hand, he spelled the door locked and added a ward to make anyone coming looking for either of them (or the loo itself) forget why and go somewhere else for a few minutes. With his other hand, he reached out to touch Draco, who responded by warily backing himself against the wall. When Draco looked around, Harry could almost feel the apprehension and – dare he say – _fear_ in Draco's well-controlled demeanor.

The only thing that actually gave any indication of Draco's probable anxiety was his slightly increased breathing.

Rather than taunt or sneer at the posh bastard, Harry dropped to his knees and looked up at Draco, who was so utterly surprised by this move that he actually  _looked_ surprised for a moment before hastily composing his features. When Harry reached out and unzipped Draco's trousers, Draco just barely managed to choke back a incredulous gasp.

Without a word, Harry decided to show Draco that not everyone blamed him for being a boy stuck in a bad situation during several bad years in which  _no one_ made stellar choices. Working rather quickly and efficiently, Harry grasped what turned out to be a long and thin shaft and worked it up until it was rigidly erect and leaking a long and thin string.

When Harry used the flat of his tongue to lick up that string, Draco couldn't quite choke back his gasp. His breathing was definitely erratic, coming fast and hard in pants that made Harry wonder if he was actually hyperventilating. Rather than dwell on the possibility, Harry attempted to swallow that gorgeous shaft whole.

Then he threw his all into giving the best blow job of his life. Not that he'd had lots of experience, but enough to know the basics of what he was doing. Draco very quickly sagged against the wall at his back and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair.

Having made it his goal to make Draco fill his mouth as quickly as possible – simply to avoid awkward questions from any of his friends – Harry soon added his hands into the task. One hand fondled Draco's balls while the other carefully slipped inside those sagging trousers and gently circled that soft pucker.

Draco let out a sound that suggested he had just been strangled and was choking to death. His hands gripped Harry's hair harder than ever as his legs seemed to give out – prompting Harry to hold onto his hips to keep him upright.

Then there was the reward that Harry wanted far more than he would ever admit out loud. Copious hot gushing that Harry swallowed without hesitation. He even went so far as to lick that glorious shaft thoroughly clean – his tongue probing the little hole in a search for more – until it was too much for Draco, who pushed him away.

Harry stood, wiping the corner of his mouth as he checked the mirror for any other telltale signs and – finding none – cast a spell to unlock the loo and leave. A shiver up his spine let him know that Draco was watching him with an incredulous and suspicious look as he left.

 

***

 

The second time was sort of an accident. Harry really was drunk and in need of a urinal when he walked in on Draco obviously tending to the exact same need. Even in his alcohol dimmed mind, Harry realized that Draco watched him with a cautious wariness and unmistakable interest as Harry made use of the urinal. Draco not surprisingly finished first and made use of a little bidet that Harry hadn't ever really been quite sure what it was for prior to surreptitiously spying on Draco rinse off with it.

Draco was thorough enough with the rinse job and accompanying drying spell that Harry actually had time to finish and put himself away. The sight of Draco doing the same a moment later triggered something inexplicable in Harry, who responded by pushing Draco into a stall (which was actually rather roomy because it had been extended a little with charms), and then barely remembering to shut the door before dropping to his knees.

Draco's gasp of surprise wasn't choked back this time. Although, the Slytherin still bit his lip and did his best to seem uninterested in this turn of events. Harry simply grinned because he knew that Draco would never admit to actually wanting Harry to suck him off – not even if his life was literally at stake.

Once again, Harry made it his mission to drink Draco dry as soon as possible. To that end, Harry actually pushed Draco's pants and trousers down to his knees and used his hands, mouth, and a few wandless spells to make it easy for Harry to penetrate Draco with two strong fingers. Those fingers wasted almost no time finding the spot that made Draco yelp in surprise and grab onto Harry's hair as his legs trembled.

When – less than two full minutes later – Draco filled Harry's mouth with a soft groan, Harry hummed happily as he swallowed it down. If he lived to be a hundred, Harry doubted that he'd ever understand why Draco's spunk tasted like salted caramel, but it did, and it was rapidly becoming something that Harry would gladly pay to have a drink of at least once a day.

But rather than dwell on that thought, Harry got to his feet, straightened his appearance, and then left the loo.

 

***

 

The third time it happened was probably at least a little planned by Draco – since Harry had astonishingly not even realized that Draco was at the Leaky until he went to the loo and was joined by the gorgeous bastard nearly right away. Draco had a brow raised in challenge and barely managed to let Harry finish his slash before shoving Harry into a stall and leaning against the now closed door.

Harry grinned, willing to admit to himself if no one else that he liked when a bloke knew exactly what he wanted. The look of challenge on Draco's face got a bit more pointed, and with a shrug, Harry dropped to his knees. There was complete silence aside from some heavy breathing as Harry opened Draco's trousers.

This time, when Harry took Draco's shaft into his mouth, Draco let out a soft little sigh that sounded as if he was trying not to be too happy that it was finally Christmas morning. This thought gave Harry a mental image of Draco wearing nothing but a Gryffindor red bow... on his gorgeous shaft. That image made Harry grin even as he continued his thoroughly enjoyable task.

For whatever reason, Harry didn't want it to end so quickly this time. Thus, he went slower and didn't even attempt to finger Draco. Yet. That was still going to happen, but Harry wanted to savor the build up for a while first.

After two or three minutes of Draco loudly trying and obviously failing to catch his breath – all the while unconsciously stroking Harry's hair – the door to the loo opened, making them both pause for a moment before Harry subtly cast a wandless locking spell on their stall door, and then added a spell that would make it impossible for anyone to see anything if they looked under it.

Then Harry resumed his actions as if there was no reason to be concerned. In truth, there really wasn't. The worst that could happen was that they'd be caught in the act, and then the Daily Prophet would probably run an article on how Harry was scandalously sucking on former Death Eaters in public loos. Surprisingly, perhaps shockingly, Harry didn't really care. If anything, it might make people think twice before insulting Draco.

Oh! And it was rather amusing to think that the next time Draco lacerated someone with his tongue, the gorgeous bastard could hurl a pointed barb along the lines of at least he'd had the pleasure of Harry's mouth on him and could the other wizard say the same? In all likelihood, probably not since Harry had done all his practicing on friends who knew better than to attempt any sort of sparring with prickly prats who had taunted them all mercilessly in school.

“Where the buggering fuck is Draco?” Blaise asked abruptly, startling both of them.

“He said he'd be here ten minutes ago,” Theo added, and then sighed. “He's been quiet for the last two months – more so than usual. Maybe he's – and I hesitate to cast such aspersions – but maybe he's having a repeat of Sixth Year.”

“Fuck!” Blaise exhaled in frustration. “If so, we'll have to hold an intervention. I'll talk to Pansy; you talk to Greg and Millie.”

Draco was looking at the ceiling and biting his lip to prevent himself from telling them to go the bloody hell away until he was done. With a smirk, Harry took pity on Draco and Apparated them both straight to his bedroom where he promptly stripped Draco naked and pushed him onto the bed. Draco looked around curiously, clearly wondering where they were. Since Harry's bedroom was still sort of perpetually in the process of remodeling, it was mostly bare and offered no real clues as to whose it was. For all Draco knew, it could have been a cheap hotel room.

But Harry didn't give him long to think about it. He very quickly resumed licking Draco's long shaft. His other hand conjured pleasant tasting and smelling oil and took the time to work Draco open with relatively loud squelching sounds – as opposed to using quick spells as he had the last time he fingered Draco. Harry soon had Draco writhing and moaning from pleasure.

In much the same way as the first two times, it didn't take Harry long to make Draco climax. Which saddened Harry a bit because he really had wanted to take his time and enjoy every moment of taking Draco apart. However, it was apparent that Draco was too sensitive for Harry's eager tongue at the moment. He lay on Harry's bed with an arm slung over his face as he panted.

Biting his lip in thought, Harry decided that there was nothing wrong with getting off too. He shifted until he was laying fully on top of Draco, one arm holding him up as his other hand freed his own shaft – that was about an inch shorter than Draco's but noticeably wider. With slow strokes, Harry worked himself to the edge, knowing that it wouldn't take long.

Draco opened his eyes to look at Harry for a moment before trying to see what Harry was doing. The view was elusive, but the movements were clear enough that only an oblivious idiot wouldn't be able to figure them out. He bit his bottom lip and held his breath for a moment before slowly spreading his legs and wrapping them around Harry's waist. Harry's breath hitched in surprise, not expecting that in the slightest.

There wasn't an ice wraith's chance in a Fiendfyre that he was going to pass up such a clear invitation! Even if Draco looked like he was struggling to clamp down on his emotions. The flicker of panic only served to make Harry mentally vow to go slow and make it good for both of them.

Which was exactly what he did at first. He worked himself into Draco with patience he hadn't realized he was capable of. Every dark and nasty part hidden deep inside him was urging him to hurry up; to ram into Draco and ride him hard. However, it felt so good that Harry kept having to stop and take a breath so that he didn't finish right then and there.

When Harry was buried deep, Draco grabbed Harry's arse and pulled as if he didn't quite believe Harry was fully inside him. As if he was holding back. But both shifting into a more comfortable position and grinding his hips into Harry proved that Harry really was giving him everything.

At that point, they both moved, and then gasped at how good it felt. No matter how much he wanted to savor the experience, Harry just couldn't stop himself from choosing a powerful pace that kept getting faster and faster until Harry lost all control. He bit Draco's shoulder to suppress a loud groan of sheer pleasure as he pumped Draco full. To his surprise and delight, Draco was right there with him, groaning and producing a sticky mess between them.

They both melted onto the bed for a bit, simply enjoying the aftermath as their breathing returned to normal. After a couple of minutes, Draco pushed Harry off of him, gave him a look that was equal parts amused and annoyed by Harry's still mostly clothed state, and then slid off the bed. Harry watched Draco dress, enjoying the reverse show as much as he'd enjoyed the original stripping. Even so, the lethargy of his recent orgasm – plus the little bit of alcohol he'd drank earlier – combined to put him to sleep just before Draco finished making sure he looked perfect and Apparated away.

 

***

 

Their encounters averaged about once a month, but weren't specific meetings. They did not set times or days to meet up. In fact, each time it happened, neither said a word. It was simple actually; the moment they crossed paths – at a ministry event, at the pub, in the middle of Diagon Alley – they'd inevitably find a bit of privacy to either have a quick shag up against a wall, or they'd Apparate back to Harry's place and do their best to pound each other into the bed.

After about a year, their encounters progressed to two times a month. When they somehow managed to cross paths an average of once a week, Harry had to wonder if they were unconsciously doing it on purpose. Except, well, Harry didn't think it likely that they could both purposely need to shop at Flourish and Blotts – or Broomstix, or the Magical Menagerie – at the same time without some sort of communication. That said, public loos were now most definitely his favorite place to be – outside of his bedroom.

Amazingly, despite their shocking lack of concern when it came to the possibility of being caught, even nearly two years on, none of the papers had caught on. At least, not that Harry knew of since nothing was ever published. It was possible that they went to Draco to blackmail him or extort money, which, if so, Harry wouldn't put it past the Slytherin to transfigure them into frogs and feed them to a snake or something.

The day his engagement announcement to Ginny appeared in the Daily Prophet, Harry was surprised to find that Draco was similarly engaged to Astoria Greengrass. Harry sighed and admitted to himself that they probably should stop their silent encounters anyway. Since, shamefully enough, he had been cheating on Ginny for quite some time now. He'd rather less than honestly told himself that it wasn't cheating because it wasn't an emotional connection, simply mind-blowing sex at every opportunity.

Ginny had once asked Harry why he didn't want to move in together or at least have sex every weekend, and he'd responded with a reasonable suggestion that they save most of it for when they were married. Since they did fool around on occasion, she let the matter drop. She'd also developed a disconcerting habit of smirking at him knowingly whenever he looked up from an attractive arse to realize that she was watching him.

The day that he accompanied Ginny – about a month prior to their engagement – to an autograph session (for her) at Quality Quidditch Supplies – she said nothing when he disappeared for nearly twenty minutes. Simply shook her head and smiled at him. Even as she ruffled his messier than usual hair out of his face, her eyes tracked something leaving the shop. Harry didn't have to look for his senses to tell him what – or rather who – she was looking at.

With a soft smile, she kissed him, and then invited him to sit next to her as she finished up her task. Harry did so, even though it meant that he suddenly had to sign autographs of his own. He'd do anything for her.

 

***

 

The night of the announcement, Harry went out drinking with his friends to celebrate. As did Draco and his friends. To Harry's delight – and no small amount of relief – the loo was still an interesting place to be when they met up accidentally about two hours later. Much like the first time, they locked the door and made it quick.

Not too long after they returned to their respective friends, a pair of drunk wizards decided that it was their mission in life to remind Draco that he didn't deserve to be happy. That it was sickening that he was engaged to be married. That they'd prefer if he was thoroughly gay and never had any children to carry on his name.

Draco calmly got to his feet and gave them his coldest glare as he summarily dressed them down. “I'm sure it will please you to know that I am far happier than even I expected. I am not  _only_ going to get married and have an adorable heir in the near future, but I  _also_ have a gay lover I'm sure you'd approve of. He's quite the catch, if I do say so myself, even if he  _is_ the strong and silent type. So, as you can plainly see, I don't need your well wishes, so kindly bugger off before I am forced to go into details best left to be speculated upon in salacious gossip rags.”

The wizards obviously didn't know how to respond to that, and took a moment to goad each other into coming up with a good response. Thankfully for everyone involved, security once again decided to remove the patrons who were clearly already drunk and rowdy before they could become an even bigger problem.

“Who do you suppose ferret face is talking about?” Ron asked curiously as Draco returned to his seat. 

Judging by the lovely blush coloring Draco's face, Harry guessed his friends were now asking him the same thing. Draco smoothed out his expression and clearly went on the defensive as he tried to assure his friends that he was just saying things. Harry was both amused and inexplicably upset by the situation. He shrugged and took a long pull from his pint.

“No idea,” he murmured.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged purposely blank looks, but said nothing.

“D'you s'pose his fiancée knows?” Ron continued, pleasantly buzzed and oblivious to the suddenly somber mood at their table.

Harry couldn't help the wave of guilt that nearly overwhelmed him. He picked at his paper napkin and shrugged again. “He probably just said the first thing that would get a rise out of them. It's probably not true. If it were –” 

“He'd be a cheating wanker!” Ron harrumphed before downing the last of his drink. 

Harry flinched and closed his eyes as he pressed his lips together for a moment. “Yeah, but I was going to say that she's more than likely going to find out since he announced it in public like that.”

He opened his eyes to see Ron nodding in thoughtful agreement. “Yeah, that's certainly true.”

Hermione picked up her wine glass and looked into it as she talked to her soon-to-be husband. “Actually, it's not uncommon in pureblood families – or noble muggle ones for that matter – for gay men to get married to suitably chosen wives while they have lovers on the side. I think that Draco Malfoy probably has no idea how to just tell his parents that he's gay and going to marry the man he loves, no matter what they think.” 

Her natural indignation at all things unfair was making her louder and more impassioned as she talked. “Even though it is currently legal in both worlds for same sex couples to get married. Even though there are potions to help same sex couples have children – if they so wish!  _Why_ can't purebloods join or – heaven forbid – actually  _lead_ the Wizarding World into an age where love is more important than wealth and status?!”

“Er, 'Mione?” Ron asked with a brow raised in confusion.

Harry was staring at her with something akin to horror. “Er... but what if a bloke – er,  _Malfoy_ – what if he likes  _both_ and just doesn't think he'll be happy without a wife  _and_ a lover?”

Hermione looked Harry in the eye, making a shiver run up his spine. “Well, in that case,  _Malfoy_ is probably lucky since purebloods are raised to look away from infidelity. Thus, he actually can have his wife and his gay lover, and no one is likely to be too upset by the arrangement.”

“Huh...” Harry exhaled speculatively. 

That might actually explain why Draco had simply shagged him in the loo not twenty minutes ago as if nothing had changed. For once, it had been Harry who had needed to be pushed into the stall and taken before he could gather up the mental capacity needed to make a decision as to, well, whether or not it should happen now that he was engaged. Part of him wanted to be faithful to Ginny, but part of him needed Draco like he needed water or air.

Ginny cleared her throat, took a large sip of her wine, and then set her glass down so that she had something to look at. “If I were Astoria Greengrass, if I thought for a moment that my fiancée loved me but also needed a man in his bed from time to time, I'd probably look the other way and never say a word. After all, if I truly loved him, then I'd want him to be happy.”

Harry choked on his ale and got to his feet. “Excuse me! I'm suddenly feeling rather ill. I've got to go home.”

He Apparated before anyone could say anything, but even once he was home, he couldn't stop from feeling nauseous.

 

***

 

The next time Harry spotted Draco, he snuck up on the vicious arse so that he could listen to that posh voice try to figuratively slay a reporter who was trying to harass Draco into confirming the rumors that he had a gay lover on the side. When Harry casually stepped around them and simply continued on his merry way, Draco stopped short, and then frostily told the reporter that it was no one's business if he was shagging every witch and wizard in Britain. 

Harry snorted and turned around to address the reporter. “Surprised your lot hasn't camped outside my window to get pictures of me and Ginny for a special weekend edition. Seriously though, why do you media vampires think that  _anyone_ should have to answer questions about their sex life?” 

Without even waiting for an answer, Harry left. It didn't even occur to the reporter to wonder why Harry disappeared into the nearest alley since he was too busy wondering if his boss actually did want him to try to find Harry's address and do whatever it took to get said racy pictures. Also, why  _hadn't_ anyone done so before?

This silent speculation gave Draco a chance to slip away, cast a Disillusionment Charm, and then join Harry in the alley. The moment Harry felt the light touch to his arm, he Apparated them to his bedroom. Barely a second after Draco dropped his charm, Harry was on him.

They stripped each other bare, and then tumbled into bed to give each other hasty blow jobs at the same time. Harry was so turned on that he didn't last much more than five minutes. Meanwhile, Draco smirked as if he had won a bet or a fabulous treasure. Which, of course, Harry took as a challenge to do whatever it took to get him off as quickly as possible. The sound of Draco trying his best not to squeal as he pumped Harry's mouth full was like music to Harry's ears.

They inadvertently took a nap for a while, but then Draco slipped from bed, got dressed, and left. With a wistful little sigh, Harry forced himself to get out of bed too and get a little work done – even though it was a weekend.

 

***

 

The next encounter happened as unexpectedly as most of them did. Harry was out at dinner with Ginny at a fairly spendy restaurant. In exactly the same manner, Draco was dining with Astoria.

Rather than meet up in the loo, both showed surprising restraint and stayed at their respective tables for the entire meal. Afterwards, Harry kissed Ginny and told her that he had to stop by his office for some files he forgot, and then would be working for the rest of the night. When he asked if she would be okay Apparating home by herself, she bit her lip and looked to the general area of the restaurant where Draco was before nodding.

Ginny kissed Harry before Disapparating. As casually as possible, Harry strolled to the loo. He didn't have to wait too terribly long, but even so, it was long enough to wonder if Draco had left with Astoria. Then, Draco entered the loo, found Harry waiting in a posh armchair that all the fancier restaurants had in the loos – for reasons Harry couldn't even begin to guess – and held out a hand.

Harry took it and Apparated them back to his place. For the first time in over two years, they shagged until they literally wore each other out, and then fell asleep in an embrace that was tender enough that it would have embarrassed them had they been awake.

Draco leaving in the morning was what woke Harry, but he pretended to still be asleep until after Draco had left. After that, Harry felt the fading warmth of the other side of the bed. He smelled the unmistakable scent that was a combination of Draco's expensive cologne, his natural aroma, and the musk of their glorious sex. With a smile, Harry snuggled the pillow Draco had used, twirling his finger in a silky blond hair that clung to the pillow like a jealous lover.

For the next few months, they didn't have a chance to meet nearly as often, but when they did, they “accidentally” fell asleep after shagging. Harry was happier than ever since he'd never once had a lover regularly spend the night with him. He supposed he  _could_ have had Ginny move in with him at any time, but it never felt quite right when she spent the night in his bed. He always felt that sort of thing should wait until after they were married.

In the morning, they'd both pretend to be sleeping until Harry either had to get up and go to work, or until one of Harry's friends started shouting his name from the kitchen, or until it became obvious that morning had definitely arrived and Draco needed to go home before his absence was noted – or so Harry assumed.

 

***

 

Harry and his friends were drinking in the Leaky at least once a week, which is how he knew for certain that Draco and his friends only went out drinking – at the Leaky anyway – an average of once a month. Tonight was one of those nights. Since the group of Slytherins always arrived after the Gryffindors, it had become a habit for Harry and friends to claim the best corner – nearest to the bar – while the Slytherins stuck to the exact opposite corner.

Harry always faced away from that corner so that he didn't unconsciously stare at a certain gorgeous prat that never failed to make his blood rush south. This meant that Ron was usually facing that direction. Occasionally, he'd make comments, but mostly, he just ignored that entire side of the room. Unless...

“I'm telling you to stop asking!” Draco roared in aggravation. The outburst was so uncharacteristic of him that the whole pub fell silent. “I'm _never_ going to tell you who my mystery lover is!”

“But _darling_ , I'm your best friend!” Pansy protested in drunken outrage. “We tell each other everything!”

“Except this, so back off!” Draco growled menacingly.

Pansy sighed in reluctant defeat, but remained silent. The whole pub was silent for a long moment. Then, the patrons started whispering to each other lest they miss the next bit of juicy gossip.

Taking this as his cue to speak again, Ron chuckled. “Guess it's true after all. Who do you s'pose it is?”

Harry shrugged and downed more of his ale than was strictly wise at one time. “No idea. Haven't talked to him in years.”

Hermione gave him a sharp look. “At all? Not even in the loo?”

Ron gave his new wife a curious look.

“Er...” Harry droned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm _not_ saying that I haven't seen him in years. For example,” he gestured over his shoulder. “But I'm being honest when I say that we have not spoken a single word to each other in years. Since Hogwarts, really.”

“But...” Hermione was genuinely baffled as she glanced at first the loo, and then at Draco. 

“What's so important about the loo?” Ron asked, puzzled.

“Just that Harry and Malfoy always seem to go to the loo at the same time and are often gone for longer than most other people take,” Neville remarked helpfully as he downed the last of his ale.

“Er...” Harry droned, unable to stop a flush from making his face utterly red.

“Wait...” Ron bade suspiciously. “Now that I think about it, you're right...”

Neville shrugged, swaying tipsily. “I'm  _not_ saying anything strange is going on, just that it seems like there's plenty of time for a conversation – especially with the doors locked and warded so often.”

Harry pressed his lips together and looked away from everyone. “I need another drink. Anyone want anything while I'm up?”

Before he could stand, Ron stomped on his foot under the table and grabbed his shirt. “Are you,” he looked at Neville with a dark expression. “Seriously implying that Harry is cheating on my sister?” Ron and Harry both looked at Ginny for a moment, who was busy studying her wine glass as if it revealed the mysteries of life and the universe. Ron then looked back at Harry. “And why aren't you denying it?”

Harry pressed his lips together for a moment as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse that wasn't a lie. It was Ginny who came to his defense.

“Because _Ron_ , it's none of _your_ business who Harry shags.”

Ron gaped at her in eye bulging shock. “But...”

Harry sighed. Apparently he wasn't very good at keeping a secret. Also, he never actually intended to keep it a secret, he simply didn't know what to say about it. 

“Look,” he began as he rubbed his right temple. “I didn't lie. I really _haven't_ spoken to Malfoy in years. When we see each other, we do things that don't require words. I have no idea how you all figured it out, but...” he shrugged. “I don't _want_ to lie, nor do I want to keep it a secret. I just...” he sighed again. “I just don't know what to call it.”

Ginny actually looked relieved and smiled at him. “As I said, just shagging. Nothing more.”

Harry didn't like the way that sounded, but he couldn't argue. So he nodded. “He's marrying his witch and I'm marrying mine.”

“Oh Harry...” Hermione murmured sadly.

Ron seemed completely sober now – as opposed to at least a little drunk like earlier. He looked to Ginny, and then back at Harry. “How much shagging?”

“Merlin's hairy arse, Ron!” Harry blurted out with a blush. “Does it really matter?”

Ron looked to his drink for a moment before shrugging. “It seems like it should.”

Harry was heartened to feel Ginny slip her hand in his. “Quite a bit over the course of the last two or so years,” she replied so that Harry didn't have to. He couldn't help but goggle at her incredulously.

“You _knew_?!”

She smiled softly. “Well... I suspected. We were... alright but not doing as well as I wanted us to be. You were distant and still fairly haunted from the war. And then you slowly grew happier. You were very attentive to me and loving. I finally felt like we were on the right track, and then... you...”

She paused and looked over at Draco. “I noticed you – at one of my games. I was taking a quick break to get a drink and you were looking at something through your Omnioculars. I looked around until I saw Malfoy – shining like gold in the sun. You both disappeared by the time my break was over, and the next time I managed to get a good look at you, you looked like you were floating on a cloud of bliss. It – ” she blushed prettily. “It actually made me happy that you were happy and I wanted you to look like that all the time. So I didn't say anything.”

Ron had his lips pressed together firmly and their entire table was silent for a moment, even Luna, who had a habit of saying the strangest things at times like this. Harry looked from Ginny to Luna to Neville to Hermione to Ron. He sighed in defeat and rested his head on his hand that wasn't in Ginny's.

“I've felt like such an utter bastard for so long because I didn't know how to talk about this with any of you,” he confessed.

Hermione tried to gently say  _I told you so_ without actually saying those exact words. “We once had a conversation about gay marriage, purebloods, and consensual infidelity. I really hoped then that you'd understand that I was trying to be as supportive as I can.”

Ginny squeezed his hand again. “Me too.”

“But wait,” Ron interjected. He had his hands up in a gesture that also asked them to wait. “What I'm not quite understanding is this... Harry, if you're happier shagging a bloke, then _why_ are you marrying my sister?”

Harry smiled faintly at Ron before giving Ginny a much bigger and more heartfelt smile. “Because I do love you Ginny. I just...” He looked away, not entirely sure how to finish that sentence.

She smiled at him. “You love me as a future wife and mother of your children, you just  _enjoy_ having sex with a certain good looking prat more.”

Harry frowned even as he nodded. It was true, even if it wasn't a hundred percent accurate. He didn't just  _enjoy_ the sex more than when he was with Ginny, he... Well, he didn't really much enjoy the sex with her at all. He could do it and it did feel good. He planned to have kids with her, but... sex with her just didn't have the same appeal.

That said, she and Harry usually cuddled for hours after they were done and talked about anything and everything that crossed their minds. Except this one thing. Thus, he knew that he had a solid and loving relationship with her, whereas his thing – whatever it was – with Draco was purely physical. No talking. Just a series of moments of silence filled with sounds that were reminiscent of a muggle pornographic movie.

Of heartbeats that sounded like thunder in his ears.

Ron took a deep breath and once more held up his hands, this time adding a calming gesture. “If this, er,  _arrangement_ really makes you both happy, I'll keep my mouth shut and never mention it again, but...” He paused to press his lips together again for a moment before finishing his thought. “What if it was the other way around? What if you were set to marry ferr – er...” a heavy groaning sigh. “Malfoy...? Would you still want or even be alright with cheating on him with my sister?”

Harry bit his lip and looked to the ceiling as he thought this over carefully. Eventually, he shrugged. “I honestly don't know. How could I accurately picture trying to marry someone I don't even talk to? I probably actually would be with Ginny too for exactly the same reasons I already am. Love. Companionship. Someone brilliant to talk to as we snuggle in bed.”

Ron thought this over for a moment, and then sort of nodded in understanding. “Alright. So. It's love with my sister and lust with Malfoy.”

Harry pressed his lips together again and took a few breaths before nodding. “Yeah.” And even though he was being honest –  _completely_ honest after all this time – he felt a sense of shame fill him because  _maybe_ he felt something close to love for Draco too. He just... didn't know for sure.

Ginny rubbed Harry's back and kissed him tenderly. She rested her head on his shoulder. In silence, she looked at Hermione, then Luna. Both gave her a look that seemed to challenge her. To do the right thing. She then looked at Ron, who was watching them in genuine confusion. It was obvious that he couldn't understand why she would just accept Harry cheating on her, or why Harry couldn't be happy with just one person.

Taking a deep breath of her own, she stood up and threw her wine glass in the direction of the man who was so obviously a reporter looking for a scoop despite trying his best to hide it – though  _she_ did a good job of making it look like she was just throwing the glass in a random direction from anger.

“How _dare_ you?!” Ginny roared so loudly that people wondered if she had cast a Sonorus – though she hadn't. “I'll have you know that _I_ am a famous Quidditch player! I don't _need_ the Savior of the Wizarding World to marry me out of some misguided notion that you are saving me from the bad men of the world!”

She pulled her engagement ring off even as Harry stared at her in utter confusion.

“Ginny...” he whispered, not understanding what was happening.

“And _maybe_ I'm not ready to put my _career_ on hold so that I can be your little _wife_ and have your kids!” She shrieked as she tossed her ring at him.

Harry was almost as white as a ghost at this point. His hand – the same one that had reflexively caught her ring – shook subtly but uncontrollably. He still couldn't manage more than a whisper. “Ginny, don't do this...”

“So do us both a favor and find someone else!”

After that little tirade, Ginny tossed her long copper braid over her shoulder and stomped her way out of the Leaky Cauldron. She glared at everyone in her way and ignored those who weren't. The pub was utterly silent as they watched her go.

Harry was a tiny bit relieved and terribly, agonizingly hurt at the same time. He was still reeling from shock and not quite able to believe what had just happened. A soft sob of anguish escaped him just before Hermione grabbed his hand and Apparated him straight home.

 

***

 

It was over a month before Harry felt he might eventually be up to leaving his house. Although he didn't quite yet. Instead, he'd pace his collection of empty rooms in silence, wishing that there was something –  _anything_ – to make a sound. A hooting owl, a yapping crup, Luna nattering on about Nargles – anything!

But as haunted as he was by the silence, he didn't think he'd ever be able to go out into a public that wanted to express its overwhelming sympathy. Ever again. They had instantly decided that Ginny was the world's biggest bitch and didn't deserve Harry's heart.

The Daily Prophet seemed to be making a killing reporting her every move just so that they could republish the picture of him looking so completely wounded as she broke up with him. They delighted in rehashing everything that had ever happened between them, and vilifying Ginny. 

It made Harry sick!

Which was why – nearly two months and a week to the day that it had happened – Harry was shocked to see Draco Apparate into his bedroom just as he was getting ready to go to bed. Early. Because he'd been sleeping a lot more than usual lately – lingering in bed even when the nightmares woke him up because they were familiar and this new existence of his was scarier.

Without a word, Draco got undressed and climbed into Harry's bed. With a faint smile, Harry followed suit. The worst part of his break up had been that he'd stopped going out into public, and thus, had stopped meeting up with Draco at random.

And yes, Harry hated himself that he felt that missing out on meaningless shags with Draco was worse than his misery at no longer having a fiancée that he loved and liked having by his side.

Draco wasted no time in taking Harry's throbbing shaft in hand and mouth and giving it all the attention it deserved. Since it had been a while, Harry couldn't hold back more than two minutes, but he made up for it by returning the favor. As he did, he wandlessly conjured his favorite oil that tasted and smelled great.

Draco was soon writhing and moaning as Harry used his tongue and fingers to soften and stretch him open. By the time he was well prepared, Harry was hard again. But he didn't think it was fair to have two orgasms, so he simply focused on rubbing that one spot as he sucked on Draco's shaft.

Until Draco had other plans. He seized Harry by the hair and yanked him up and into position. With a smile, Harry oiled up his shaft and pressed into Draco. They both groaned happily as they shifted and came fully together.

Harry braced his elbows on either side of Draco's chest as Draco dug his well-groomed nails into Harry's back. They ground together in the most satisfying way for a long time, neither in a hurry to reach the end. And then Draco did something that shocked Harry; something that hadn't been done at all in the more than two years they'd been shagging.

He kissed Harry.

A long and demanding kiss that Harry had to stop everything in order to properly respond to. A possessive kiss that made his toes curl. A passionate kiss that set his blood on fire and made tiny wet sounds.

Eventually, Draco wiggled his body in a reminder for Harry to resume thrusting. After that, Harry shifted so that he could comfortably shag and kiss at the same time – forever, if possible. When the slow but wonderful friction to both his shaft and prostate finally built up enough to overwhelm Draco, he shuddered and squealed from the intensity of it.

Harry groaned as those tiny flutters of pure pleasure ripped an orgasm from him as well. He clutched Draco tight and pumped him full to overflowing. They collapsed into a well sated pile and didn't move more than necessary to breathe for a long time. 

Sleep claimed them as if Morpheus himself demanded their immediate presence for an official staff meeting in the dream world.

In the morning, Draco gently pushed Harry off of him and shifted so that he could slip out of bed. For the first time ever, Harry grabbed his arm. Draco looked at Harry's hand curiously.

“Stay,” Harry whispered, making it hard to determine if he was asking or insisting. Or both.

Draco looked around at the room, taking in the amount of sunlight streaming in through the window for a moment. Then he looked at his hand – the one that was attached to the arm that Harry held. With an inscrutable expression, Draco mulled over his secret thoughts, twisting his engagement ring around pensively.

Coming to a decision, Draco pulled the ring off and set it on the bedside table with a soft clink next to his previously discarded wand. Then, with a faint nod, he returned to Harry's side. They were both quiet as Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder.

“Alright,” Draco whispered in return.

Elated beyond words, Harry kissed him. And kept on kissing him until everything else faded.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm not really trying to imply that all of Harry's friends would just go along with him being a cheating wanker, simply because he is Harry and they love him. Just that none of them (especially Ron) was sure it was happening - except for Ginny, who made a decision to just let it happen because she wanted Harry to be happy.  
> I myself am poly, so I also hope that Harry's friends would actually be sympathetic to his need to have more than one partner, even if it's not realistic in this case, shrugs. That said, I am pretty sure that Harry was actually gay in this story, but fighting it because he convinced himself that he was supposed to have a wife and kids.  
> Lastly, I keep thinking about how Freddie Mercury was gay but *always* insisted that he loved Mary Austin as if she was his wife - to the point that he left her most of his estate when he died and gave his long time gay partner only part of it. It just makes me think that it's not only possible, but probably actually more common than one might think for a gay man to completely and utterly love a woman too, just not want to have sex with her. I hope that doesn't come across as insulting to anyone :-)


End file.
